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SOUTHERN SONGS 

RHYMES AND JINGLES 



BY 



ELIZABETH M. MONTAGUE 

Author of *' Beside a Southern Sea,'* 

"The CaU of Eden" 

(Latter in Press) 




THE CAMEO PRESS 

NEW YORK 

MCMXVI 



/ 






Copyright, 1916 

by the Author, 

ELIZABETH M. MONTAGUE 

Printed in United States of America 
All Rights Reserved 



//• 



^ 



NOV 22 1916 



CI.A446525 

/ 



TO MY FRIEND 

ROSE M. DE VAUX-ROYER 



ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

All of the poems in this volume have appeared in 
magazines in the North or the South; a few in the 
West. The author wishes to thank these publications 
for the use of them in this form. 

E. M. M. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Homeward Bound 9 

The Calling of the Wild 11 

Spring's Awakening 12 

The Skulker 13 

Then You Would Know 15 

In a Southern Wildwood 17 

A Fantasy 19 

Motherhood 23 

To A Purple Iris 24 

A Prayer 25 

Ye Shall Be Satisfied 27 

Happy Town 28 

Lean Hard on Me SO 

Divided 31 

Beyond the Pale 32 

Little Gluck 34 

Hearts 40 

Winter 41 

The Compromise 42 

Alien 42 

Night and Morning 43 

Four Gifts 43 

One Hour 44 



• PAGE 

A Homing Heart 45 

Alone 45 

To Sleep 46 

A Pastoral 47 

A Question 55 

Magic 56 

December 58 

A Purple Violet 59 

September 60 

Dreaming 61 

Waiting 62 

The Maid We Love 63 

The Road to Yesterday 64 

Lost Long Ago 65 

The City of Might Have Been 66 

June-Time 67 

Giving and Taking 67 

Achievement 68 

To A Mocking-bird 69 

Kissing Time 70 

Tragedy 71 

With Tommy and Mary at the Circus .... 75 

April and Omar 81 

The Little Man 83 

His Song 83 

He Got Her 84 

Future in Contracts 84 

No Quarter Given 84 

The Crooked Man 85 

How They Manage It 85 



PAQE 

Vive Le Roi! 85 

The Pudding 86 

Dandy Jack 86 

The Flight 86 

The Pretty Nurse 87 

The Kissing Bug 87 

Mr. Rockefeller in Augusta 87 

The Hero 88 

Ol' Blue Jay 88 

The Infelicities of Mr. Crow 90 

The Bold Lochinvar 92 

Mr. Jay Entertains 93 

Widow Whip-poor-will 94 

No Alimony for Mr. Jay 95 



HOMEWARD BOUND 

DAYLIGHT dies in the west; 
Dusk veils the fair earth's face; 
Unto night's purple breast 
Stars steal apace. 

I walk a flowery lea, 

Wading through fragrant dew; 
And all I hear and see 

Brings thoughts of you. 

Blue of the misty hill 

Tells of your gentle eyes; 

And to the laughing rill 
Your mirth replies. 

Wind-toyed the meadow grass, 
Burned with the poppy's flame, 

Speaks to me as I pass. 
Whispering your name. 

In veilings silver-kissed 

The moon-bride takes her place, — 
And smiling through the mist 

I see your face! 

9 



I think of a nest I know, 

In a bower of lovesome things, 

Where a dove-bride waits as the hours go 
For the sound of homing wings. 



10 



THE CALLING OF THE WILD 

npiIE calling, calling, of the wild is in the air to-da}^, 
-■- You can hear the calling, calling, though you are 
far away, 
And your spirit leaps to reach it as a brook leaps to 

the fall. 
And your senses thrill with rapture in answer to the 
call. 

In fancy you can hear the merry birds among the trees, 
And see the flowers bending to the kisses of the bees, 
As you thread your eager way along the fragrant 

meadow grass. 
Where daisies lift their dainty heads to hail you as you 

pass. 

Leave the toil and stress of things, the rush of hurry- 
ing feet. 

And seek the dewy meadows with blue violets sprinkled 
sweet ; 

Take your sweetheart's hand in yours, dear lad, and 
fare away 

To where the wild is calling, calling to your heart to- 
day. 

11 



SPRING'S AWAKENING 

ALL at the fragrant waking of the day, 
I heard the piping of a tender lay; 
A httle bird sang in a garden tree, 
And I had dreamed an angel spoke to me! 

Upsprang a dainty breeze, speeding away 
On quivering wings to greet the goddess May ! 
And kiss to waking life each lovely thing 
That slumbered in the rosy lap of Spring! 

So good is life! sweet glowing mystery! 

And death? — there is no death for you and me! 

Love is immortal and must live reborn 

To j oy beyond the Resurrection Morn ! 



12 



THE SKULKER 

T ASKED a bee, a flower, a rose, 
-*■ A skylark at the brink of dawn, 
A fountain in a garden-close 

A cricket on a daisied lawn, 
I asked the river flowing wide, 
The firs upon the mountainside. 

I asked the billowy sea of jade, 

The hills of melting amethyst, 
The golden patches in the glade, 

The meadows where the sunlight kissed ; 
I asked the runlet in the glen. 
And all the haunts of nymphs and men. 

I asked the white clouds in the sky 
Drifting like treasure-laden ships; 

I asked the breezes fleeting by, 

Heavy with sweets of flower-lips; 

I asked a lad of shining face, 

A maiden of a winsome grace. 

I asked of all, and asked again: 

" Where dwelleth Care? Doth any know? " 



And birds and flowers, and hearts of men 
Had naught of will nor power to show ; 
For none could name the darkened place 
Where Care was hiding his grim face 1 



14 



THEN YOU WOULD KNOW 

TF you could only know 

-■■ The sorrow of my heart, the weary woe 

That grants me no reprieve, 
The hungry longing, restless pain. 
That rankles in my heart and brain, 

I think you would forgive. 

If you could only think. 

My ever only dear, that on the brink 

Perchance of lifelong woe. 
We stood to take our flight, 
Nor heeded we the height. 

Nor deemed it could be so; 

If you could see the way 

Whereon our all-unheeding feet would stray, 

The rocks that frown below — 
If you could but in wisdom see 
The depths and gulfs of misery 

Then you would know — 

Then you would know, 
And see, mj own lost love, 'tis better so, 
in 



Forget the past, my best, 
My ever friend, forget that thou 
And I have dearer been than now, 

And leave to God the rest. 



w 



IN A SOUTHERN WILDWOOD 

A CALM and sweetly scented wood 
Invites me for a quiet day, 
In its deep-bosomed solitude, 

To drowse and dream the hours away. 

To slip the noose of things that fret, 
In this cool and sequestered spot. 

And teach my spirit to forget. 

Far from the world the world forgot. 

I think the brooklet at my feet 

Sings its blithe song for me alone; 

I know was never song more sweet. 
And there is rest in every tone. 

Rest in the trembling leafy green 
Above by dreamful winds caressed, 

And in the heaven-blue shown between. 
While drowsy nature murmurs " Rest ! " 

Sweet violets fringe the water's lip, 

And on its bosom lilies lie. 
And willow tendrils droop and drip 

Stirring the ripples flowing by. 
17 



The cherokee her bounty flings 
Of petal-showers on every wind 

Like little snowy fluttering wings 
By fleeting elflings left behind ! 

Before the salvia's glowing flame 

One almost thinks to stand unshod, 

As Moses once, in awe and shame 
Stood by the burning bush of God! 

On high a mock-bird trills — I know 
Of old that mellow tone — 

That tender strain so soft and low, 
Telling his love to every one. 

All nature sings a song to me, 

To me alone from one glad throat — 

A song of hope, of joy to be — 
A promise in each dulcet note! 



18 



A FANTASY 

T HAD a dream once through a fragrant night. 

-^ I can recall ere sleep-waves sought mine eyes, 

The flood of moonlight through my window, where 

A trellised moonflower caught the tender light ; 

And waxen clematis, of silv'ry guise. 

Wandered at her sweet will, flowered and fair, 

As though Titania were enshrined there ; 

When every leaf gleamed with the tears of dews ; 

While over all in mist of opal rays 

A cobweb spread a veil of changeful hues 

To canopy the whole in pearly haze. 

I heard the night-winds harping on the hill 

Accompanying the low soft lullaby 

That Nature crooned unto the dreaming day ; 

And I could hear the whispering of a rill 

Making its little journey to the sea 

Where the great scurling waves beat restlessly ; 

And I could see from where at ease I lay, 

One little star sending its silver ray 

Along the silent heaven, and it did seem 

To lead me into sleep and strangeful dream. 

I thought my breast a garden-plot, and lo. 
From its rich soil my heart burst into flower, 

19 



Like a rare lily, whiter than the snow ! 
Never before in Nature's beauteous bower 
Was seen so fair a bloom. Day after day 
All wonder-lost, I watched its petals white 
Slowly expand — the while a strange delight 
Enraptured me, as might a flashing ray 
Piercing the gloom of a vast forest-deep 
Wake all its shadows into life and light. 
I sang : " Oh world with gladness rife. 
Can be in all thy sunshine eyes that weep .? " 
But soon I thought on where to hide my prize, 
My beauteous lily-heart, where curious eyes 
Would ne'er behold nor crave my lovely gem. 
Nor cruel hand come nigh to wring its stem. 
I straightway set a hedge about it all 
Of thorns and piercing weeds to prick and sting 
Who dared to thrust between or scale my wall; 
And there to sit the livelong day and sing, 
And feast my eyes upon my flower, to me 
Were life enough, were heaven's ecstasy. 

A summer's day, one came and leaned above 

My garden wall. — Oh, fair and fine, my love ! 

Too high for thorns to reach he looked adown 

On my white lily-heart — his fair hair blown 

Out on the wind, I thought his tender eyes 

Gathered the blue of all the summer skies 

Into two darkened pools; and it did seem 

His smile was all the sunshine in one beam ! 

Oh, voice of waters : " I would ask a boon 

Fair maid — mayst dare yon lovely flower to crave? 



For hear me pledge thee true, by yon bright moon, 

Thro' life, thro' death, e'en when the cruel grave 

Shall hold me in her clasp, above my breast. 

E'en o'er my death-cold heart that flower shall rest ; 

And should my soul God-cursed, sink in the gloom 

Of darkest foulest hell, that sacred bloom 

So white, so holy is, its faintest breath so pure, 

One moment there, and hell were hell no more ; 

And should my soul God-blessed, wing to the heavenly 

light, 

That bloom were fairest of th' Empyrean Height ! " 

Couldst say him nay ? Alas, my lily-bud I 

Over the world the twilight fell. I stood 

And watched him pass away. A glance, a wave 

Of hand, a fleeting smile, and he was gone ! 

I heard naught but the ocean's mournful lave — 

Its hollow echoing — I was alone ! 

I kept no count of days, recked not of time 
That passed — nor state ; but dreaming still, anon, 
I thought I heard the far-oif silver chime 
Of bells — it was the first awaking dawn. 
I looked and saw the thorny hedge about 
Me as before ; the glowing skies above 
Sent burning beams from its bright jewel-stone; 
The merry, vagrant winds did rudely flout 
The lazy clouds ; and in a distant grove 
A bird was singing in his richest tone. 
So silver-sweet I thought his heart must break 
With melody ; and then I heard one speak 
My name. And lo, above the wall there shone 

21 



That well-loved face; blue eyes looked in mine (^n; 

I saw the wind sport in his plumed crest — 

The sunlight in his gilded vesture gleam, 

The while a bright and wand'ring ray caressed 

His wind-toyed locks — and his calm voice did seem 

To outward float from some weird shadowland; 

He held the lily-bud within his hand. 

" Take back thy flower, maid, I bring it thee." 

(The while I gazed all cold and tremblingly!) 

" Take back thy gift — a fairer sweeter flower 

Than this thy faded bud doth now endower 

My life with fragrance rare." All mute I stood, 

And looked adown on that pale withered bud 

Low at my feet — a wounded broken thing ! 

And then — a mockingbird began to sing ! 

I ope'd my eyes to see a merry ray 

Of sunlight bringing in a joyous day; 

A golden sunbeam dancing thro' my window-bars, 

And lo, my dream was vanished with the stars ! 



\ 



22 



MOTHERHOOD 

\ LWAYS I've known that you would come to me, 
■*• ^ Waking or dreaming as the slow years passed, 
As heedless girl or woman grown to be. 

Always I've known that you would come at last. 

And I have lived waiting to see your face ; 

And in my life for you have made wide room. 
That all be dressed and ready in its place. 

That day of all my days when you would come. 

And longing for you, still, I wait and wait, 
With breast so warm to lay your head upon, 

With arms so ready be it soon or late, 
You come to rest within them, little one! 

Come to me little babe, sign of sweet love ! 

She hath not tasted earth, she will miss heaven. 
To whom the Great Almighty God above 

Hath not a little child or lent or given ! 



23 



TO A PURPLE IRIS 

THOU art so fair, tell me thy secret true ! 
Wert born of summer rain and sun and dew, 
To prank this dallying streamlet with thy bloom. 
And freight the lazy breeze with thy perfune? 

Or art the spirit of a gentle maid. 
Whose glowing feet along this pathway strayed 
To tryst with one thou lovedst too long and well 
E'en in the Elysian fields content to dwell? 

And hast thou come again, asking to lie 
Within his path to clasp his feet and die? — 
Or — blessed hope — one little hour to rest 
In dreamful ecstasy upon his breast? 



24 



A PRAYER 



T ASK, Good Lord, not miracles of Thee, 
-■■ But that in mercy. Thou my guidance be. 



I would not, if it could be, win reward 
For only asking, but with strivings hard. 

I would not have my name in water writ, 

But scrolled before men's eyes. Thou blessing It. 

I would be great, and fitted to achieve 

A purpose high and fine, something to live 

After this mortal day on earth be run. 

And time for me shall set with life's last sun ; 

But failing greatness, grant that I may see 
In little things Thy paths and plans for me. 

And with a yielding spirit run to meet 
What Thou in wisdom set to prove my feet. 

Grant Thou, that I adoring, bring to Thee, 
To dress Thine altar sheaves of purity, 
S5 



And lilies of white prayers ; and for Thy head, 
That I may offer unto Thee instead 

Of alabaster-box and ointment fine, 

A broken heart, this little life of mine. 

Molded and fashioned to Thy perfect will. 
Waiting to hear at last Thy " Peace, be still ! " 



26 



YE SHALL BE SATISFIED 

rXlHE scythe of Time cuts keenly, and the hours, 

-■- The httle human hours fall one by one; 
The seasons bring their yield of snows and flowers, 
And lo, our little mortal lives are run ! 

An hour's toiling in the fragrant morn, 

A moment's resting by the way at noon, 

A night of weeping for a hope forlorn. 

And then the end — we cry : " Too soon, too soon ! " 

But as we stand before the vast Unknown, 
And tremble with the fear of things untried. 

This thought illumes the soul, that to His own 
Our God has said: " Ye shall be satisfied." 



27 



HAPPY TOWN 

' ' O HOW me the way to Happy Town, 

^^ I've missed it many a mile ! " 
The winds blew up, the leaves came down, 

As by a lonely stile. 
Along the foot-worn path of Care, 

I watched the weary pilgrim fare. 
And wander, toiling up and down, 

Seeking the way to Happy Town. 

" 'Tis by a far and winding road," 

I heard a maiden say, 
" And each must share a brother's load 

Who travels by that way ; 
'Tis on a shining mountain height. 

And all day long gleams in the light ; 
This city fair you'll soon discover 

By the mist of glory hanging over ! " 

" Give me your hand and come with me. 
Sweet maid, we'll fare together; 

Tho' sky be gray or winds ride free. 
Or fair and rosy weather ; 



Lean on me bj the darkened way, 

And lend your hand as a tender stay, 

Tho' heaven be bright or dark storms frown 
We'll find the way to Happy Town ! " 



29 



LEAN HARD ON ME 



LEAN hard on me, beloved, thy frail feet, 
I kiss them ! some dark day may chance to meet 

Along thy careless path, now roses strewn, 
A piercing thorn, a cruel bruising stone. 

Lean hard on me, thy roses dewy red. 

Blown of thy youth's fresh fairness may be dead 

Tomorrow, shattered, scattered, and dark rue 
Thrust into hands that only roses knew. 

Lean hard on me, lest on thy untried path, 

A storm-cloud crossing, break in sudden wrath, 

And, wand'ring helplessly, thy feet shall stray. 
And in the darkness lose the sheltered way. 

Lean hard on me through life's long pilgrimage. 
Now in thy fulsome youth, and when gray age 

Sits on this brow I stroke so tenderly; 

Lean hard on me, beloved, lean hard on me. 

30 



DIVIDED 

T'M walking in an old lost Way, 
-■■ Haunted of Memory ! 
And here again my footsteps stray 
As in a far, uncbastencd Day — 
But is it well for me! 

For here entombed my heart low lies 

Lo, a stone is rolled and set ! — 
What if the dead should now arise, 
And view me with rcmembr'ing eyes, 
Could I forget — forget? 



31 



BEYOND THE PALE 

I GAZE far, far into the dome of night, 
And fain would pierce the blue star-spangled veil, 
To view what lies beyond that silent pale 
That shuts the heavenly glory from our sight. 

Can there be fields wide-spreading, bright with blow 
Of flowers kissed to life by breezes sweet? 
Or shining shores where purple waters meet? 

Or rolling meadows pale with lilies' snow? 

Can there be giant mountains lifting high 

Their serried crests above the slumbering vales ? - 
Dreaming to sound of trilling nightingales — 

Waking to wreck the great clouds drifting by? 

Are there cool streams in tremulous coppice-glades? 
Or stealing in and out again among 
The haunts of timid things of call and song. 

To lose the way amid the forest's shades? 

And shall we, you and I, stand face to face. 
Eye seeking yearning eye, and understand 



Each other, know, hand clasping glowing hand, 
Our own and loved in that great silent Land? 

On, Love, from the sweet heavenly fields afar. 
Look down on one in gloom of doubt and night 
Ere the faint gleam of hope fades from my sight, 

I pray you tell me where, and what you are ! 



3S 



LITTLE GLUCK 

/^LUCK was his name — just Gluck — a funny 

^^ name ? 

You ask me if at Christening it came? 

Oh, dear, dear no ; how funny that would be ! 

For just a mouse, a tiny mouse was he — 

A little scampering, loving, small gray mouse 

That once lived in the queerest old gray house! 

This house? it had not always been so queer; 
Once a great flowering garden had stood where 
A wilderness now riots in the sun: 
And regal roses — proud queens every one — 
Reared their high heads above sweet mignonette 
With which the pretty curving walks were set. 

Vines climbed the porch and offered to the broods 
Of garden-birds delightful solitudes ; 
Wistaria and tender cypress-vine 
Clasped tendril-fingers with the jessamine, 
While the blue periwinkles and heartsease 
Made fair exchange of kisses with the bees. 

Each spring among the old wild-orange trees 
The robin's voice in little ecstasies 

34 



Named not the garden nor the old house queer ; 
For the sweet singer loved to linger near, 
Gold-mining in the jonquil treasure-bed, 
Or coralled 'mid the woodbine overhead. 

The bees thought it not queer — the busy things, 

Intent upon their honey-harvestings ; 

Nor did the butterflies that came in crowds 

And fluttered down in little gilded clouds 

Above the pinks and sweet alyssum beds. 

Or crowned with diadems the aster heads. 

Nor did the cardinals flashing among 
The dusky cedar-boughs that gloomed along 
The old stone wall ; nor did the blithe peewees 
Chirping amid the flowering orchard-trees ; 
Nor did the mockbird from his chosen spot 
Of eminence — the vine-hung chimney-pot. 

For once a beautiful sad lady dwelt 

In that queer house, and in that garden knelt 

Among those happy flowers, her loving care 

Attending their sweet needs — though oft a tear 

Dropt in a lily-chalice, or a sigh 

Passed on a zephyr winging softly by. 

And in the scented twilight she would sing 
Of dear lost days, when youth's fair coloring 
Glamoured the world, and set her eager feet 
Out upon primrose paths of promise sweet. 

35 



But, oh, the cadences of joy and pain * 

Commingling in that low and yearning strain ! 

And Gluck would creep to his accustomed nook 
Behind the great piano, where he shook 
With pain and joy, a-quiver and a-thrill 
As those strains floated on the twilight still — 
Replete with tears and longing, every tone — 
As she sat singing in the dusk alone. 

Why should one be so sad when earth was fair? 
When the old garden slumberecl, dreaming, near? 
When the fond mockbird in the flow'ring tree 
Was telling of his love in rhapsody. 
And half the room lay in the white moon-glow? 
Gluck was a little mouse and could not know ! 



II 

Now in a darkened corner, in a chest 
Broken and age-stained, Gluck had made his nest. 
This ancient case stood grim along the wall 
Where scarcely one pale beam of light could fall. 
And spider's snares and dust increased the gloom; 
But here small Gluck had made his quiet home. 

For lo, his bed was silken, and all sweet 
With lavender, and soft beneath his feet 
As down of eider ! But he had not guessed 
The sacred mystery of that old chest 

36 



That held in trust an unworn bridal-dress ! 
Gluck was a little mouse and could not guess ! 

Slumb'ring in those soft folds, he did not know 

What that old packet there beside, could show; 

A strong man's passion cruel fate denied, 

A human who had lived and loved and died ! 

A m.ouse could only guess at these strange things 

Of love and fate, with all his wonderings ! 

Ill 

It was Gluck's habit every night to creep 
Round and about that queer old house, and peep 
With bright and curious eyes, in every crack 
And cranny ; making gay excursions back 
And forth the spacious rooms around; — 
Mad-scamp'ring to his nest at every sound t 

How proud was he, with timid step to climb 
The rich buffet, and there to set a-chime 
The crystals blinking in th' uncertain light; 
Or sniff or nibble in a rare delight 
The toothsome treasure-finds that often lay 
So temptingly along his joyous way! 

And what a happiness it was to slip 
Into her sleeping-room and take a sip 
Out of her drinking-glass ; or steal away 
A petal of the rose she wore that day; 
Or curl within her slipper, silken blue — 
This was the greatest joy his small life knew! 

37 



IV 

Too soon the summer's joy, rounded and filled, 

Flamed with its crimson passion, throbbed and thrilled, 

And waned and wasted to its latest day : 

And lo, the beautiful sad lady passed away — 

Passed with the glowing summer's ecstasies. 

And faded with the light of summer skies. 

The heavens darkened, and the dreary rain 
Wept over earth, moaning as if in pain ! 
The winds whined at the doors, or rudely stirred 
The boughs and leaflets bare of bloom and bird. 
And blight stood shivering with empty hand! 
Poor little Gluck — he could not understand ! 

Oh, the strange stillness, oh, the spectral gloom 
That shuddered in each cold and voiceless room ! 
No more the lady came to her old place 
At the piano, and with charming grace. 
Moved white and loving hands along the keys 
To bring forth little wistful threnodies ! 

No more, no more! The singing voice was mute; 
The dreary house of warmth was destitute! 
No glowing presence lent its radiance there, 
But a strange dearth and void was everywhere! 
The garden stripped of every lovely thing, 
Mourned for her sweet lost children of the spring! 

But soon to Gluck's dim heart there came a ray 
Of comfort, for there chanced upon his way 

38 



A dainty little slipper, silken, blue — 
Her own, by the faint perfume he well knew ; 
Right in his darkened path the fair thing lay ! 
He nestled in its hallowed depth all day ! 



One night he stole into the dim old room. 
All sweet with memories of roses' bloom. 
And there the moonlight on the oaken floor 
From the wide casement slumbered as before ; 
And as he looked, within the misty light 
The lady sat clothed all in flowing white I 

Her hands touched the loved keys, but never sound 
Arose to break the stillness, weird, profound; 
And though her face, framed in its moon-kissed hair. 
Thrilled as by song, naught stirred the empty air: 
And in her eyes a mystery of light 
Lingered as of Celestial glory bright ! 

And Gluck, thrilling with joy, soon in strange fear 
Trembled to see a man's form standing there 
Beside her, while his loving hands caressed 
Her shining tresses, or his fond lips pressed 
Her glowing brow. And like a little child. 
Content, the beautiful sad lady smiled ! 

For she was happy ! With a strange delight 
Gluck watched them — smiling — vanish out of sight ! 
It was a vision, but he did not know ! 
The shadows closed around; he heard the low 

S9 



Sad whisp'rings of the night from sea and land : — 
A little mouse how could he understand? 

That night a great red tongue of flaming fire 

Leaped over that queer house — rose high, and higher ! 

Licked 'round, and scorched it with a fierce caress! 

And Gluck? Perhaps it was his happiness 

To die within a slipper, silken, blue — 

The greatest joy his small life ever knew! 



HEARTS 

DEAR Dolly Dwight and I for kisses played 
At " Hearts " ; I won, and so dear Dolly paid ; 
But great was my distress, turning about, 
To find delightful Dolly in a pout, 
And hear those lips made but for kisses sweet, 
In cruel tones denouncing me as cheat ! 
And though th' injustice was quite clear and plain, 
I gave her all her kisses back again! 



40 



WINTER 

rilHE day is darkening; a dreary pall 
-■- Covers heaven's blue; and dismally the rain 
Wind-driven, beats chill upon the window-pane, 
As purple twilight settles over all. 

I hear a sound among the naked trees — 
A lonely bird, his fellows South have sped; 
Why lingers he when summer flowers are dead, 

And winter's finger locks the pallid lea ? 

Perhaps thou too, thou too, oh, wild fond bird. 
Would pause awhile mid haunts of yesterday; 
Calling to mind thy happy Junetime lay 

When all the lovely flowers entranced heard ! 

Sweet singer, dwellest on the glowing thought, — 
Thou, even as I gazing on scenes so drear — 
That only hidden out of sight, somewhere, 

Is all the miracle that summer wrought ! 



41 



THE COMPROMISE 

' 'T ET'S kiss and part," she said and sighed 

•*— ^ " And go our ways, the world is wide ! 
Perhaps 'tis best in every way 
That we shall kiss and part to-day." 

He said : " If wisdom 'tis to part, 
Then we shall foolish be, sweetheart; 
Or let us leave it to kind fate ; 
But — let us kiss at any rate ! " 

ALIEN 

WINDS of the Southland, sweep over my brow \ 
Feed my faint heart with the sweets that you 
bear; 
Wand'rer from sylvans of jessamine-blow. 

Where muskadine tangles the gold of her hair ! 

Songs of the Southland, my senses attune 

To the clear note of mockingbird trilling apart, 

In an old orange-garden beneath a white moon, 
Of a flow'ry night in a deep-summer's heart ! 

Love of the Southland, in Memory's hoard, 
Shine on my path in the dark of the way ; 

Lift from my care-burdened spirit the load — 
The shadows englooming my life's fair day ! 

42 



NIGHT AND MORNING 

THE Dusk it sped down the Sky's stairway, 
And the Darkness went skulking behind, 
And the dear little Clouds all went quite astray 
In running away from the Wind! 

And all the eyes of a million Stars 

Watched a tender young Moon in bed, 

Till away in the east a gallant god Mars 
Ushered in fair Dawn, blushing red! 



FOUR GIFTS 

I HEARD, or dreamed I heard four mortals pray. 
The first unto his God. " I would be blessed 
With gold, and take unto my latest day 
My chances for the rest." 

The second pleaded for immortal fame; 

That there be writ with flowing, fiery pen 
Athwart the scroll of the wide heavens his name 

Before the eyes of men. 

And one, the boon of love, — sweet love ! 

That every other blessing did enfold. 
Binding two hearts as with a chain whereof 

Each link was purest gold. 

43 



But one standing a space apart, did pray — 

(An humble soul was he,) that God would send, 

To bless the measure of his earthly day. 
One kind and steadfast friend. 



ONE HOUR 

I'M thinking of a still and perfect night — 
Out of the misty Past it burns for me ! — 
A perfumed June, under the chastened light | 

Of stars, beside a brooding, wind-dropt sea. I 

Your wistful face was like a dew-washed flower — 
My all of life is blent with that one hour ! 

I'm thinking of a little trembling star I 

That slipt from out the glittering heavens, and went :, 

Its glowing way to ether-fields afar, ' 

Haply on some Celestial mission bent; 

Of how we wished for " Mizpah" that fair night, 

All in the flash and failing of its light ! 

So overful were we of love's red draught 

We could not think on that we knew full well — 

The cup of Destiny of lips have quaff'ed. 

The gulf between us wide as heaven from hell ! — 

Infinities of time — joy's richest dower. 

Were blent for us in that one perfect hour ! 



44 



A HOMING HEART 

BELOVED, when a little while runs by, 
And all the earth throbs under sapphire sky. 
When joyous Spring has sounded her clear call, 
And April's fragrant children, great and small. 
Come trooping rosy forth to happy song 
Of gay birds carolling the whole day long — 
As a fond homing dove, joyous and free. 
That burst its bonds of late captivity. 
Winging to waiting ones and warm soft nest, 
My homing heart shall seek your arms for rest ! 



I 



ALONE 

NEED you, lad, I need your light to shine 
Into this dim and lonely life of mine. 



I need your sympathy, your words of cheer, 
I need to know and feel you ever near. 

I need your hand to guide me on the Way 

From which my weak and errant feet would stray. 

I need your splendid strength when mine runs low. 
And all the pulses of my being are slow. 

I need your tenderness like altar-fires, 
To light the white flame of my pure desires. 

4j5 



I need your kisses sweet as ruddy wine, 
Upon these love-enhungered lips of mine. 

I need your love, so good and strong and true 
Dear lad, I am so lonely needing you ! 



TO SLEEP 

OH, sleep, I pray, come to these out-stretched arms ! 
Thou one-time loving friend, come stroke this 
brow 
With gentle touch, and soothe me of alarms. 
Thou lovely one, come to me here and now ! 

Come to these wide and aching eyes of mine 
So weary with an endless strife of tears ; 

Oh, hush me with thy murmuring benign. 
With thy low whisperings dispel my fears. 

Once thou didst lull me with thy fragrant sighs 
And on my pillow rest thy gentle head; 

Didst fold me in thy arms — I did misprize 
The tender, loving one, till lo, she fled ! 

Wide-eyed I lie, or lonely sit and weep. 

And reach out heavy arms, and bitter moan, 

Calling upon thy name — Oh, sleep ! oh, sleep ! 
Oh, gentle spirit, hast forever flown? 

46 



A PASTORAL 

T LOOK out on the fragrant night, — 
-■■ A sleeping world, a silent heaven, — 
I lift my pleading to the White 

Great Throne of God that peace be given, 
Some balm my troubled soul to bless 
And woo me out of hopelessness ! 

Or do I dream again to-night? 

Is this the ghost of some wild dream? 
As far as moves my wandering sight 

All is so strange and weird, I seem 
A spectre, — spectres all around, 
In silent conclave, grim, profound ! 

I fancy that a pale moon-wraith 

Clasps the still earth in cold embrace, 

Stealing her suspirating breath. 
And smiling in her dying face! 

The frighted stars have sped away! 

The far-off sky turns dull and grey ! 

Strange sounds float upward from the dark 
Depth of the frowning wood, 

47 



Where phalanxes in order, mark 

Their silent step where they have stood 
For dreary ages as to-night, 
Long-shadowed in the chastened light! 

Back in the girlhood home! Oh, heart 
Of mine, doth any comfort spring? 

Doth memory play no kindly part 
To lend thee calmer mood, or bring 

A roseate beam of some lost day 

To light thee on thy darkened way? 

II 

My eager vision ranging wide, 

I see afar in outline grey 
The village school glooming beside 

The old sweet-brier bordered way. 
I almost hear the clarion knell 
And calling of its morning bell ! 

And I can see the old church-tower 

Cleaving the elm-trees! And once more 

I am a child at service hour, 
My eager eyes upon the door, 

My ready ears waiting to hear 

The ending of a lengthened prayer. 

I well recall the high stall-pews. 

That standing I could scarce o'er-reach; 
The window-panes of vari-hues. 

The minister's slow-falling speech, 
48 



The matrons of the little town 
Each happy in her Sunday gown! 

Ill 

Across a daisied slope, beyond 

An avenue of ancient firs, 
I know there smiles a blue-eyed pond; 

I know that when the light wind stirs 
Its face in dimples circling wide, 
Tost in the eddying of its tide 

Gay water-lilies dance and dip, 

Flaunting their hoard of pearl and gold, 
While pirate bees draw near to sip 

The nectar of each honeyed hold, 
And flower-winged pilf'rers skim and dart 
Above each dew-en jeweled heart! 

From thence a ragged path leads down — ■ 
I cannot see, I know 'tis there — 

To where the little slumb'ring town 
Is silent I can only hear 

A watch-dog baying now and then, 

With echo answering back again. 

IV 

A brook goes singing by yon field, 
Telling of all things sweet and fair 

Dripping upon its banks, their yield 
Of summer fragrance in the air! 
49 



Laughing, whisp'ring as it goes 
Past creeping smilax and wild-rose I 

We walked in childhood by that spring! 

Our clasped hands stayed its gentle flow ! 
It was a sleepy little thing 

As tho' of half a mind to go 
And half to linger in its play 
To kiss the blue flags by the way ! 

And where it ripples down the hill, 
Dancing in merry mood along. 

We placed a wondrous water-mill, 
And fondly deemed it fast and strong, 

And came in tears another day 

To find our treasure swept away ! 

Where gleams yon field of yellowing wheat 
His father's lands join ours; this brook 

Marks boundary where the two farms meet; 
And from its jasmined banks you look 

Out over each to east and west, — 

In sooth you could not name the best! 

A little nervous bridge once spanned 
This narrow stream ; oh, I can see 

It now, vine-wreathed, under the grand 
Wide-spreading of a willow-tree ! 

I thought the birds sang sweetest there ; 

Of all the fields the flowers most fair! 

50 



For there he told me of his love, 

Re-murmured in the brook's soft flow, 

While tender stars looked from above. 
Or smiled as bright in depths below; 

For day and night did kiss and part 

The hour I gave him all my heart ! 

It is almost a joy to think — 

If earthly joy could be of mine — 

On these dear scenes and hours, to drink 
The little left of life's red wine, 

(Or is it draught of Tantalus' cup!) 

Which sorrow has almost drunk up! 

I think to-morrow I shall go — 

If I may dare to trust my heart ! — 

And look on this and this, and so 
Prove to myself if any part 

Of life's old joy remains to me, — 

So long espoused to misery ! 



This window opens out above 
A gardenful of old time flowers. 

The room I used so well to love! 
My own thro' many happy hours 

And days and years that made my life, 

Ere I with living was at strife ! 

The modest gilliflowers lean 
One to another as they were 
51 



] 



In timid gossip, and, between, • i 

Sweet asters pink and white appear; ' 

And daffodils in cape and snood, 
All in a fragrant sisterhood ! 

A pure white rose was wont to swing 

Trellised against this window-blind ; 
One day I plucked a lovely thing 

Into my sunny locks to bind! 
The brightest da}^ of all my life, j 

That heard me called sweet name of " Wife ! " ] 

I plucked a rose another day, » 

And placed it in a dear, dead hand ! | 

And since then I have thought life's way 
(I do not try to understand!) 

Life's star-bound way — hath been bereft 

Of flowers, and only thorns were left I 

* 

In sooth, mine was a fleeting life ! ^ 

A few short years spanning it o'er, — I 

Dear years with every beauty rife ! | 

And surely that is all its score — 

What were my after days but low 

Sad requiems of the long ago ! 

Oh, you have seen a sundown rare, 

In red and purple blue and gold. 
Ere night let fall her curtain drear, \ 

And twilight closed fold over fold. 



Hiding the glory from the sight, 
Leaving behind the deepest night; 

Oh, you have smelt a rich perfume — 
(The memory of a rose was night!) — 

And thought you trod in summer-bloom, 
And ere the fancy fleeted by. 

You cried : " Fresh June is come again ! " 

And there was frost upon the pane ! 

So I a little season trod 

Elysian fields on this our sphere. 
Then all my joy sped up to God, 

And now I only linger here 
A sad sojourner, toiling on. 
With hope set far beyond the sun ! 

VII 

To-morrow's dawn will gild the sky. 
To-morrow's flowers will scent the air. 

The little brooklet tinkling by 

Will sing because the world is fair ! 

The soaring lark will lift her strain. 

And all the earth rejoice again! 

And I shall wander 'neath the sun 

Thro' wood and field, by laughing brook. 

To rest my aching eyes upon 

Some well-remembered path, some nook 

Fragrant with blossoming eglantine. 

With opal-tinted dews ashine, 

53 



And there will be no sun for me, 
No diamond-dew feeding the grass ; 

The brooklet leaping joyously 
Will still its music as I pass ! 

The winging lark will break her strain, 

And all the world turn grey again! 

There is one spot I have not told ! 

Father forgive, if my poor heart 
Hath named Thee hard ! Under a fold 

Of hills a square is closed apart ; 
Our dead sleep there, and there sleeps he 
Who made my living sweet to me ! 

A marble angel guards above 

One grave, and in its sculptured hand 
Holds the great Book of Life and Love. 

His name is There, and in that Land 
That God hath given to them that pray. 
We'll meet and love again some day ! 



54» 



A QUESTION 

T F I could be a flower, and you the dew, 
-*• What were we each to other, I and you? 
You'd lie upon my bosom, kiss my heart. 
Still of myself would know a little part. 

Were I a cloud and you could be the sun. 
You'd kiss me crimson when your day was done 
You'd deck me with your gold all fine and fair, 
And I should pass away into the air ! 

But were I heaven's white moon and thou the sea, 
What were we each to other, I and thee? 
One pulse, one tide in union strong and true, 
Faithless to all beside I'd be, for you ! 



66 



MAGIC 

ALL snugly wrapped in his blanket of night, 
With the morning-star pinned in his cap, 
King Helius as sweetly as you or I might, 
Was enjoying his morning nap; 

When, sh — ! he heard such a twitter and cheep, 

Such chatter and warble and trill, 
As never before, and up from his sleep 

He arose and peeped over the hill — 

In amazement! for there was his old spouse the earth. 

Decked out in the richest of dresses ; 
The embroidered dewdrops alone being worth 

The ransom of forty princesses ! 

And she wore such a marvel of art of a bonnet, 

To match, all of yellow and green, 
With meadows of daisies and buttercups on it ! — 

The like of it never was seen! 

And from tops of the trees, to where golden bees 

With butterflies hung in the clover, 
The merry bird flitted and warbled and twitted, 

And chirruped the fragrant fields over! 

56 



ii 



And the old fellow smiled like a great big old child, 

As he asked his good wife to explain ; 
And she winked a bright eye, and she said : " You old 
guy. 

Don't you know Spring has come back again? " 



67 



DECEMBER 

IT seems but yesterday when the gray earth 
At Spring's clear call awaked to warmth and mirth, 
And all the hills and meads were gold-arrayed 
With cowslips where the lovely Queen had strayed. 
And, following, fulsome Summer came to fling 
Upon the earth her robe of blossoming. 
But now the rose's golden heart is bare, 
A broken lily lies a-bleeding near! 
The cold North sighed, and thou hast felt his grief. 
Fair rose, thy life so bright and brief — 
So sweet, white lily-flower — but who can tell ? 
Haply death to the dead is sweet as well! 



58 



A PURPLE VIOLET 

A MODEST little violet 
I, strolling, chanced upon to-day, 
Deep in tangled grasses set — 

I stopped to note it by the way — 
A daint}^ thing, blue-eyed and wet ! 

The breezes romping merrily 
Wafted its fragrance up to me! 

But wherefore did the world wax chill 

All on a happy summer day? 
Wherefore did the daisied hill 

In twilight shadows fall away? 
And Nature's voice grow hoarse and still? 

Why in my heart a thorn was set 
At looking on a violet? 

One time I plucked a violet — 
On such a golden summer day! 

It in a dear dead hand to set. 

Two slender hands that lightly lay, 

And on a whiter bosom met ! — 
Always I'll see a fair face start 

Out of a purple violet's heart ! 



59 



SEPTEMBER 

DANAE unveiled her bosom's lovely snow 
And on it great Jove's golden shower fell, 
And all the earth took radiance of that glow, — 
So the immortal poets love to tell. 

I, dreaming, thought the high-heaven sun were Jove, 
The earth a lovely Danae rained upon. 
And forth came glowing out of so great love 
Our gold September for a Perseus' son. 



60 



DREAMING 

BEHIND the ocean's rim the sun is drooping; 
Dusk hovers nigh; 
And in the throbbing silence wraiths come trooping 
Of hours gone by. 

Across a flowered lea on light winds winging 

Float tones of bells, 
That to my ears are like the far sad ringing 

Of requiem knells. 

The rapture of the day's last dreaming lingers 

Along the deep. 
And memories rise which love's insistent fingers 

Rouse from long sleep. 

Perhaps my life has known its fullest measure 

Of worldly meed, 
But O, the heart stripped of its perfect treasure 

Is poor indeed. 

I'm wond'ring now, as the grey night comes creeping, 

Veiling the blue. 
If you can guess my lone heart's yearning, weeping 

For love and you. 

61 



WAITING 

OOMEWHERE, I know, in the dim Yet to Be 
^ (Always I've dreamed it and I dream it still) 
In some bright year and hour you'll come to me, 
And all my empty soul with glory fill. 

My heart is dressed and ready for that Day, 
My tired hands are eager for your own, 

And on my lips a thousand things to say. 
Love-hoarded treasures, and for you alone. 

And longing for you, still I watch and wait. 

Though you may choose another life and way ; 

Though you may come an seon soon or late, 
And from the glowing Path for long may stray. 

You'll come at last, I know, and we shall stand, 
Eye speaking answering eye in some bright Place - 

Haply not earth, haply of a fair Land 

That men call heaven, but I shall know your face. 



6^ 



THE MAID WE LOVE 

OHE comes again, the April Maid, 
^^ With crocus-blossoms in her hair! 
And every voice of field and glade 
Proclaims her near. 

The buttercups all golden dressed. 
Arise their lovely queen to greet; 

And where her dainty feet have pressed 
Spring violets sweet. 

The sun-god high in ether blue 
A tribute rich to her would pay 

In wealth of diamonds in the dew 
Along her way. 

And gaily to Pan's piping reed 

(The path is fragrant where she went!) 
You'll find her dancing on the mead, 

Flinging afar sweet bloom and scent. 



68 



THE ROAD TO YESTERDAY 

FRIEND, I would find the road to Yesterday, 
For I have lost it in my wanderings far, 
And now upon that path my feet would stray 
If it be marked by any chart or star. 

It matters not by what bleak mountain-height 
The pathway leads, or by what desert sands ; 

Or that I lost and groping through the night 
Be bruised in my feet, and pierced of hands. 

Lead me along the road to Yesterday — 

I who of men have sinned and sorrowed most — 

That I may find by some pure Childhood Way, 

That faith my soul once knew, and loved and lost! 



64 



LOST LONG AGO 

OH, that my thoughts were wings tonight 
To waft me in a backward flight 
To one sweet hour in yester-year — 
It might not be my eyes could bear 
The light of that far yestertime 
When youth and love was at the prime! 

Oh, for the floodtide of that hour! 

A summer's dusk, each nodding flower 

Leaned to us as in sympathy. 

Some little whispering birds drew nigh — 

You kissed me ! My dim life can know 

No light but that hour's afterglow ! 



65 



THE CITY OF MIGHT HAVE BEEN 

rp HE way to the City of Might Have Been, 
^ Can anyone tell? Does anyone know? 
Tho' many there be that toil between 

Its desert waste and mountain snow, 
By endless paths that wind and wind, 
That wondrous way can anyone find? 

In a far-off country it must be. 

And the journey long and long to fare; 

Its smiling plains we may never see, 
Tho' we bend our gaze forever there. 

To catch one ray of the golden sheen 

That gleams o'er the City of Might Have Been. 

But oh, beloved, at the end of day. 
When the red sun hangs in the west. 

And I tread along an old-loved way. 
With an old love young in my breast. 

My thoughts bridge over that vast Between 
To you, in the far, lost. Might Have Been. 



66 



JUNE-TIME 

T T'S June-time in the world today, 

-*■ And heaven is blue; 

The sweet birds know it and the flowers, 

That drowse and dream the long white hours. 

And wake from dreaming but to say: 
" The joy-time of the heart is here; 
It is the rose-time of the year. 

And love-time too." 

When life shall change its rosy tint 

To graver hue; 
And age shall sit upon your brow 
Where part the dusky tresses now, 

My heart can feel no loss nor stint ; 
For with you at my side, my dear. 
It's always rose-time of the year 

And love-time too. 



GIVING AND TAKING 

T 'D never give a kiss, nay, nay, 
-■■ For all the earth and sky and seas ! 
I — would not give a kiss, but may 
Be coaxed to — take one, if you please ! 



67 



ACHIEVEMENT 

' ' T HAVE gained wealth," a prince said boastfully, 

"■■ (So runs a story old,) 
I did command, and Fortune brought to me, 

Coffers of brightest gold." 

" I have gained glory, an immortal name 

Is mine," a poet said, 
" I writ in words of fire, and mortals came 

With laurel for my head." 

" I have gained love," a bold knight made reply, 

" For one as far above 
All women as the heaven's dome is high 

Has crowned me with her love." 

An humble shepherd passing in the way, 

Spoke to his heart, unheard. 
Counting it riches to have won that day 

The trust of a wild bird. 



68 



TO A MOCKING-BIRD 

GAY, singing bird, you do delight my heart ! 
Your blithe notes thrill and stir its every part; 
Its chords loose-lying, slackened, music-mute, 
Leap into tone like to a wind-swept lute; 
And on the waste of things as by swift fire, 
Kindle the embers of my dull desire. 
And all my slumbering senses flush and glow. 
Quickening into newness as your low 
Soft strains float out upon the twilight hour. 
I thank thee bird for thy sweet charm and power 
To lift a drooping heart and set it high. 
I thank thee bird, for thy blest minstrelsy ! 



69 



KISSING TIME 

THE little birds are kissing in the trees ; 
The wavelets kiss upon the shining strand ; 
The rose is sighing kisses to the breeze; 
The dipping sun is kissing all the land. 

What if the moth lie on the lily's breast, 

The moon-queen stoop to kiss the pleading sea, 

And mother-twilight kiss the world to rest, 
If still my cruel love will kiss not me? 



70 



TRAGEDY 

I HAD a strange dream, and behold, the day was 
slain ! — 
Night hurled a cruel dart and smote her glowing 
breast ; 
I saw her droop, and bleed, and die, and all the west 
Was crimson with the stain ! 

I saw the twilight gray break from the arms of night 
And with a gentle hand close the dead eyes of day; 

And spreading wide his dusky pinions, far away 
He bore her out of sight ! 

I saw in heaven a crescent moon hang white and high ; 

I saw the great sea lash itself to silver mist; 
I heard the moan of haunting winds, and from her tryst 

The night-hawk's startled cry ! 

I saw a lovely woman standing by the sea, 

Within the sunny glory of her unbound hair ; 

I saw her upturned face, that it was wondrous fair. 
But dumb with misery ! 

I saw her standing knee-deep in the ocean foam ; 

I saw the angry winds sweep through her tangled 
hair, 

71 



And still she watched the seething waves as if 'twere 
She sought to find a home! 

I saw her pale lips part and a despairing moan 

Sadder than words of mortal tongue, went wailing 

by, 

When her crushed heart burst wildly forth in one great 
cry 
To Heaven ! Then she was gone ! 

I looked, and saw the great sea roll on as before; 

But on its bosom dark, an instant shone a gleam 
Of floating locks, and white clenched hand ! And lo, my, 
dream 

Was passed, I saw no more ! 



72 



RHYMES AND JINGLES 



WITH TOMMY AND MARY AT THE 
CIRCUS 

A is ior Animal Show, 
With gay tents all set in a row, 

And Tommy and Mary, 

And Aunt Jane, contrary, 
With little pup " Gpysy " in tow. 



B is the bloke that you buy 

Your tickets from, and though you try 

To be quick as a mice. 

And just ever so nice. 
It's rudeness you'll get from that guy. 



C is the cracker-jack sweet 

You are toting around but can't eat 

Till Aunt Jane says you may. 

Later on in the day ; 
And your anguish is more than complete. 



D is the tent-door at last. 

And through it you soon have been passed; 

And you hear all the yells. 

And smell all the smells. 
And your joy has been never out-classed. 



75 



ili is for elephants three, 
The largest you ever did see, 

That went round the tracks 

With small folks on their backs, 
As merry as merry could be. 

p is for funny flamingo, 

Who spoke in the queerest of lingo ; 

He would shake his pink head 

At whatever was said. 
Or saucily answer "By jingo!" 

(jT is for grouchy old gnu 

Who complained that his woes were not few ;- 

He w^as down on his luck. 

For he had not a buck 
In his pocket, and not one in view. 

H is for hard-headed hippo 

Who persisted in walking on tip-toe. 

But she fell down at last, 

And the people all asked 
Why did she happen to trip so? 

I is for crabbed old eider. — 
A lady once lingered beside her, 

And she pulled out great strands 

Of her hair with her hands ; 
So at last the manager tied her. 

76 



J is for jolly old jaguar, 

So tipsy she could not but stagger; 

But she jumped through a hoop, 

And then looped the loop, 
As if there were nothing could fag her. 

K is for old krazy kat 

In a komical koat and kravat ; 

For cutting up capers 

He got in the papers. 
And there he was licked by a rat. 

L is for languishing llama, 

Who thought herself quite a young charmer. 

She'd moan and she'd sigh. 

And murmur : ** Oh, my ! " 
As if one were trying to harm her. 

JVl is for marvelous mandrill. 

Who went through a wonderful fan drill. 

He could walk — dressed in kilts — 

All day long upon stilts, 
But not for a moment could stand still. 

N is for nice nanny-goat. 

Who was dressed in a bright petticoat; 

And a queer little sacque 

Buttoned right down the back, 
And a green ribbon tied at her throat. 

77 



O is for odious owl 

Who did naught but quarrel and scowl, 

And get mad as fire 

If one stopped near by her, 
And should one speak to her, she'd howl. 

r is for peevish old puma, 
Always in quite a bad humor ; 

Some said with a wink. 

That the trouble was drink! 
But that might have been only rumor. 

V^ is for crazy old quail. 

Who tried to swim round in a pail, 

" I am greatly upset," 

She said, " to be wet, 
I'm afraid all the curl's out my tail ! " 

rv is for regal old rea. 

Who made sure the people would see her. 

As she strode up and down 

In a white satin gown. 
So folks all would wish they could be her. 

S is for savage old satyr; 

There were many good reasons to hate her, 

For a woman they say. 

Went too near her one day. 
And she pounced right on her and ate her, 

78 



T is for troublesome tapir, 

Who was always cutting some caper; 

She'd grin and she'd sneer, 

And sometimes she'd swear. 
But it made her mad when they'd ape her. 

U is for sad unicorn 

Who wished she had never been born ; 

For her lover, they say. 

Rode quite rudely away, 
And left her all sad and forlorn. 

V is for vicious old vulture, 
Without any manners or culture; 

If you stopped at her cage 

She would fly in a rage 
As though she wished to insult you. 

\\ is for wonderful whale. 
Who stood on the tip of his tail, 

And bellowed so loud 

That he frightened the crowd, 
And the people around all turned pale. 

X is for excentric xenus. 
Said to belong to a genus 

Many years thought extinct. — 

But the old fellow winked 
And said: "They are off, just between us." 



79 



Y is for very wild yak; 

They kept her head tied in a sack, 
And her four feet in bags 
Made of old burlap rags, 
And her tail poking out at the back. 

/j is for best thing on view, 
A marmoset dressed all in blue. 

Just the cunningest thing 

That rode round a ring 
Riding a white cockatoo ! 



80 



APRIL AND OMAR 

WAKE ! for the Man that House-cleans by the 
Day, 

With skillful Blowings in some strangeful Way, 
Is at the Door; if thou wouldst not descend 
Dust unto Dust, escape. Friend, whilst thou may. 

Come, then, into the Garden, where the Rose 

Her Charms reveal, and see the new-washed Clothes 

Naked upon the Air of Heaven ride. 

At Will, but not unblushed for, Goodness knows. 

'Tis said we should this loveliest Month of Spring, 
Our Winter Garments to the Attic bring. 
And take the Camphor Balls along, for lo. 
The festive Moth again is on the Wing. 

Wouldst buy thy Spring Suit? be advised of me. 
And leave the Wise and Foolish as they be. 
In newest Styles and Cuts I'll put thee wise ; 
Thou hast the Price? the Rest is Naught to thee. 

Now some buy Things they can't afford, and some 
Charge them, not knowing where the money's to come 
from; 

81 



Pay thou the Cash and let the Credit go ; 
First of the Month the Bill is sure to come. 

And get the best for what thou needst must pay ; 
Be thou not as the blowing Rose to say : 
" I'll fling the golden Treasure of my Purse 
Into the Garden ! " — Thou repent some Day. 

For some have husbanded their golden Grain, 
And some have flung it to the Wind like Rain, 
Do thou be wise and know that Coin once spent 
Full surely thou shalt not get back again. 

So when in Gladness thou thy Heart renew, 
Believe me, Friend, that this one Thing is true. 
Whether by Prophet spoken or by Fool: 
" Thou shalt not eat thy Pie and have it too." 



82 



THE LITTLE MAN 

rpHERE was a little man 
^ And he had a little gun 

And he went to the wild, wild, wild! 
And when he got there 
He shot a " Teddy bear " 

And oh, how he smiled, smiled, smiled ! 

But when he came back 
Folks all said: "Alack!" 

Though he said never a word, word, word ; 
And 'twas whispered far and near 
By those that had his ear, 

That his heart was quite set on a third, third third ! 



HIS SONG 

rriHERE was a colored gentleman 
-■- Dwelt by the fair Ashlee; 
He loafed about from morn till night. 

As blithe as blithe could be ; 
There was a song he loved to sing, — 

The only song sang he: 
" I'll work for nobody, no not I, 

If somebody'!! work for me." 



83 



HE GOT HER 

HEY diddle doubt 
My candle is out, 
And my little wife's not at home; 
I'll go to the club, 
Or perhaps to the ' pub ' 
And fetch my little wife home ! " 



FUTURES IN CONTRACTS 

' 'OILLIE Burke, Billie Burke 
^^ Where are you roving? " 

" Over the screen ! " 
" Billie Burke, Billie Burke, 
Who are you loving? " 
" That's to be seen ! " 

NO QUARTER GIVEN 

THERE was a Judge sat on a bench. 
Whiskey, whiskey weedle! 
His thirst for blood he could not quench, 

Whiskey, whiskey, weedle! 
They brought the President up to try. 

Whiskey, whiskey, weedle ! 
" Off with his head, and don't ask why ! " 
Whiskey, whiskey, weedle! 
84 



THE CROOKED MAN 

rriHERE was a crooked man 
-*■ Who went crooked all his days, 
He got his crooked halfpence 

In many crooked ways. 
He was crooked at the Bank 

And crooked at the store, 
So they jailed him, and perhaps he'll not 

Be crooked any more! 



HOW THEY MANAGE IT 

O WIFT he gets all the fat, 
^^ Armour gets the lean, 
And so betwixt them both you see. 
They lick the country clean! 



VIVE LE ROI! 

piERPONT Morgan 
-^ Plays the organ, 

Woolworth beats the drum; 
If you could see 'm 
You'd wish to be 'm 
When they all go " Turn, tum, tum ! " 



85 



THE PUDDING 

WHEN good King Teddy ruled the land 
He was a goodly king; 
He taught his chef just how to make 

A nice gas bag-pudding — 
A gas bag pudding big enough 

And stuffed full well with " coons," 
He into it put much of guff; 

It lasted him three moons. 
Teddy and dame did eat thereof 

And Cabinet men beside, 
And what they did not eat that night 

His Dame next morning fried. 



DANDY JACK 

ANDY Spandy Jack-a-Dandy, 
Bought his girl much Huyler's candy, 
And took her to the ice-cream shop; — 
And then she gave him the drop, drop, drop ! 



THE FLIGHT 

HEY diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, 
The food-stuffs have jumped to the moon! 
Then grocery man laughed to see the sport 
But the housewife fell in a swoon! 

86 



THE PRETTY NURSE 



' 'T^ THERE are you going, my pretty maid? ' 
▼ V " Just to the front, kind sir," she said. 

" May I go with you, my pretty maid? " 
" If you have the nerve, kind sir," she said. 

"Who is your father, my pretty maid?" 
" He's only a millionaire ! " she said. 

" Then I will marry you, my pretty maid ! " 
" I thank you kindly, sir," she said. 



THE KISSING BUG 

T T OBSON he loved cake and wine, 
^ ^ Hobson he loved candy ; 
He loved to kiss the pretty girls 
When they were nice and handy. 



MR. ROCKEFELLER IN AUGUSTA 

r INHERE was an old gentleman lived in a car, 
-*- Who gathered up children from near and from 
far, 
And when upon ice-cream and cake they'd been fed. 
He kissed them all round and sent them to bed. 

87 



THE HERO • 

ITTLE Victor Blue blew his own horn 
Till folks all wished he had never been born ; 
He's been duly warned, — or so at least, they say, 
That one more blast will take his head away! 



L" 



OU BLUE JAY 

O 



F all de beases on sea an' Ian' 
Mr. Sparrow-hawk sho is a family man; 



Any day you kin see him on a sweet-gum lim' 
Wid Miss Sparrow-hawk settin' close by him ; 

Hit would sho be a bird o' Paradise 

Could a-caught Sparrow-hawk wid dey goo-goo eyes ! 

Dar's ol' Miss Partridge as soon as light 

Starts a-callin' for her ol' true-lover, " Bob-White " ; 

De Cardinal sings but one lone song 

To his " Sweetheart, Sweetheart ! " all day long. 

An' soon as dus' is in de sky, 

01' Widow Whip-poor-will moan and cry. 

But ol' Blue Jay, you bleege to know, 
Ain' got a care, an' ain' got a woe ; 

88 



He swings an' sings in de ol' fir tree, 
As sassy an' happy as happy kin be ! 

An' one time his song is " May, May, May ! " 
But hit's " Kate, Kate, Kate ! " de very nex' day ! 



THE INFELICITIES OF MR. CROW 



OL' man 
All al< 



Crow lived mos' all he life 
one by heself an' ain' had no wife, 



But when he git good on de shady side, 

He up an' brung home a mighty young bride. 

He sho was proud, an' pretty soon he 'lows 
He gwineter whirl in an' buiP a fine house. 

But while Crow worked a-totin' everything, 
Miss Crow she sot up in a tree an' sing; 

An' de folks all 'lowed she sho was a shirk 
To set in de cool while Crow done de work. 

When de nes' was made an' de work was done, 
An' de eggs was laid, den de trouble begun ! 

Miss Cuckoo she gone an' started de mess 
By droppin' a egg in Miss Crow nes'; 

An' dar hit lay for every one to see. 

An' hit wasn't no Crow egg, an' never could be ! 



90 



An' Lan' de trouble was on for true, 

When Miss Crow hatch out dat young Cuckoo ! 

Mr. Crow he 'fuse to see he wife face; 
He pack he valise an' sho lef de place ! 



91 



THE BOLD LOCHINVAB 



OL' Turkey Buzzard son (a mighty sorry cuss), 
Tuck to courtin' Miss Partridge gal, an' brung 
on a fuss. 



For de Partridge hoi' dey noses stuck up mighty high, 
An' tink de Buzzard fam'ly's powerful small fry. 

Miss Yallowhammer lowed it were a sho disgrace, 
De sass Miss Partridge throwed in ol' Miss Buzzard 
face. 

Hit soon begun to 'pear dat Partridge gal was sot 
To marry dat young Buzzard, for she up an' 'fied de lot. 

But who should come along dat way dressed in de lates' 

style 
But Mr. Robin-Redbreast, an' lowed he'd stop awhile. 

An' Law-a-massy what you tink.'^ befo' de week was 

close, 
He'd up an' stole dat Partridge gal f'm under Buzzard 

nose! 



92 



MR. JAY ENTERTAINS 



ly^R. BLUE JAY was a single man, 

•^"-*- An' live by heself kinder ketch-what-you-can. 



One day when he bin home all by heself, 
Wid not a vittles lef on he pantry-shelf, 

Here come de news by Miss Bumble-bee, 
How Miss Yallowhammer comin' roun' to tea ! 

Mr. Jay was sho in a fix dat day ! — 
But he happen to look across de way 

To oP Mr. Butcherbird house, an' see 

Mr. Butcherbird meat hengin' up in a tree; — 

All he good meat what he lef out to dry 
For he own little chillen to eat bimeby. 

Dar was de meat, an' dar was Mr. Jay ! — 
You got de hint.'' Mr. Butcherbird say 

Neighbor Jay oughter 'member de Golden Rule. 
Mr. Jay say de Butcherbird sho is a fool! 

93 



WIDOW WHIP-POOR-WILL 

S long as a widow's head is hot, 
You'd better look out ! her snare is sot. 

You gwinter git caught befo' you know, 

An' you better believe you're caught for sho' ! 

A widow kin weep an' moan, an' wail, 
But her eye kin see right through dat veil ! 

But dar's one widow I 'lowed would stay 
A sho-nuff widow till her lates' day, 

An' death would a-caught her a widow still, 
An' dat was ol' widow Whip-poor-will. 

But all de bird an' beases say 

She's to marry Brer Coon on Christmas day. 



94^ 



NO ALIMONY FOR MR. JAY 



DEM gals kin work an' strive as dey may, 
But dar sho' ain' none gwineter caught Mr. Jay; 

Dey kin set dey snare, dey kin lay dey plan. 
But Blue- Jay sho ainter marryin' man. 



He will court all de gals f'm near an' far. 
But weddin' days Blue Jay ain' dar ! 

But he hit a snag an' a undertow 

When he give young Miss Yallowhammer de throw! 

I reckon taint a man on earth to-day 
Woulder act such a mean an' no-count way; 

For all de folks in de country knew. 
How he courted dat gal for sho an' true; 

For he bought de ring an' name de day. 
An' den de las' minute he skipped away. 



95 



But she sho stuck de law to oP Blue Jay, 
An' brung a suit, an' he had to pay! 

I reckon by now he's 'gun to see 

Dat courtin' aint aU hit's cracked up to be. 



THE END 



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